The Journey Begins
by Hardback Writer
Summary: After 6th year, Harry embarks on a quest full of challenges, least of all including Horcruxes. WARNING: HalfBlood Prince Spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters, just the story. J.K. Rowling's. . . all of it.

Please review, my life is nothing without comments! Lol, sad I know.

Chapter One

It was a typical summer day: warm, blue sky. . . gleaming sun. . .trees of August green. . .large, red flowers. A boy, a man in more legal terms, glimpsed them, only to be reminded that they shared the color of his love's hair. He, like his father, fell for a girl with scarlet hair, and he hardly found it to be coincidence. Why? Why did he like her so much only to have to leave her on the eve of his journey? Why did he like her at all? She deified him as a young girl, what was so attractive about that? Nothing; she respected him, trusted his word more than his own age-old friends had. He appreciated it; she was there. And, best of all, she did not cry. . .he was not sure what he disliked so much about crying.

Harry Potter stood in front of his grand, yet not-so-grand inheritance: Number 12, Grimmauld Place. One of his few hopes, Sirius, managed to dwell here and survive as a teenager. . .he had to do the same. Just for a while, until he knew where to go.

R.A.B. . . . . .it was so obvious now: Regullus A. (_possibly for Asshole, _Harry thought) Black. Fool he was not to recognize on the first glance. Sirius' brother, the dutiful Death Eater. . .who else? Perhaps it was the dulling ache of Dumbledore's death by his most loathed teacher which prompted his blunt mind.

Harry retrieved the key to the gnarled front door from his pocket. _This_, he thought, _should be done without magic_. The musky smell immediately reached him, as the ashes of some unknown remnant covered the entire house. The shrieking of an old woman's portrait, Mrs. Black's no doubt, broke the dazed moment. _Slytherin's locket is here_, Harry ascertained, _I know it is_. And he knew precisely who to call.

"Kreacher!"

A burst of smoke.

"Vile master calls on poor Kreacher for his assistance?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Kreacher, tell me of all the vaults and secure hiding places Regullus had access to and used."

The surly house elf looked tormented, but told Harry everything he knew of the subject. Kreacher was an unwilling servant, but a servant nonetheless. One certain place mentioned caught Harry's ear. . .the Black's inheritance vault, a fitting place to keep such an artifact.

The vault was in the master bedroom, but was not visible on his first look. The room reeked of old glory: green velvet, silver chalices, gem-encrusted swords. . .it could have been Snape's quarters at Hogwarts, though Harry knew not what they looked like. Harry found a tapestry on the farthest wall from the door. It was black velvet with silver threading embroidered in the shape of a powerful snake. He smiled callously, drawing the tapestry to the side with his hand. The vault was in plain sight.

Harry said quietly, "Don't use all that much magic for a Pureblood family do they?"

Harry removed some minor enchantments from the vault and slowly opened its door. The vault was colossal, a room of its own ceiling high in enchanted trinkets, cursed objects of glory. Harry felt afraid and overwhelmed by the prospect of just digging in for a small piece of jewelry, especially since the majority of the vault's treasure appeared heavily cursed and made for mayhem.

"_Accio locket!"_

Thirteen lockets hovered before Harry's eyes, gleaming with sheen only light could provide. He inspected them carefully, making sure not to touch. The seventh one in the row held an embossed S. He recognized it immediately from the vision he shared with Dumbledore in the Pensieve. Harry grabbed it, and when he felt its light weight in his tired hands, he felt tremendous excitement.

He raised his wand, incanting a spell of destruction. The locket disintegrated, disappeared. A black smoke of glittering specks took its place upon the floor. Suddenly, the pain overwhelmed, Harry doubled up, screaming from the searing agony. The pain ebbed shortly, and he collapsed on the floor, exhausted, and finally understanding what was behind Dumbledore's black hand.

A/N: Get your review quills ready! Dear God. . .anyway please review. . continue? don't? start over? rot in hell? please tell me, no flames however. thanks.


	2. Chapter 2

**DanielRadcliffeLover1999: It is customary to respond to your reviewers! Haha, anyway, thank you for your compliments and yes, I will keep writing. Stay tuned!**

Chapter 2

Harry felt a slight touch on his eyelids and forced them open. Around him was a pool of dark: no chairs or tables, no candles or lights, no floors or ceilings . . .just the darkness he was forced to trust. He shook his head slightly, repositioning the black- framed glasses upon his pallid face, and pushed himself from the ground. He looked up, only to find a standing river of the most silver water. . .or perhaps it was hair.

Harry felt a tingle, then a surge of excitement run as a swift current through every cell of his body.

"Professor?"

The silver-haired figure turned slightly, a candle held by its long-fingered, wrinkled hands, neither of them black. Harry's eyes looked upward, to find a serene, smiling face looking back at him. . .it did not hold the weariness and the illness so prevalent in the departed headmaster's visage.

"Harry, I'm thrilled to find our little trip was not in vain! Found the Horcrux, have you? Did you destroy it?"

Harry touched the back of his neck self-consciously, replying,

"I think so, sir. So. . .you're not dead? Please tell me you're--"

"Ah, Harry. The death of the human body is ordinary, almost trivial. The death of the spirit is what is truly disheartening. A shame someone of Tom Riddle's intelligence could never grasp the inherently simple concept. My body is, quite expectedly, dead. Spirit, Harry. . .that can never die. A bit cliché, I understand, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore noticed a slight twitch in Harry's body, "but nonetheless, it is true. You even hear what your father or Sirius might say in a certain situation, comical or solemn. That cannot merely be your imagination. Your mother guards you from the grave. There is no explanation. . .except--"

Harry sighed, "Love, yes, I know, the answer to all questions. . ."

Dumbledore shook his smiling head.

"Harry, do not trivialize this gift of yours. You don't have to be Voldemort or one of his minions to lack that essential, human quality. It binds us all. . .you and Ron and Hermione and Sirius and Remus and Nymphadora and your parents and," his smile deepened, "Virginia Weasley."

Harry fell silent.

"Those ties are enough to change people, enough to. . .destroy them as well."

Harry nodded.

"Professor, how do I use it? Easy enough to be. . .sentimental. . .but, practically speaking. . .how can I kill him with love?"

Dumbledore chuckled slightly.

"Harry, magic itself relies on some impracticality. . .life relies on impracticality. Voldemort's reign relies on it as well. How to use love? That will come clear in time. . .there is no sure answer in these matters. I would dislike the thought of telling you to let fate run its course, but you must do what you can. Find and destroy the Horcruxes. Learn to trust your instincts, your judgments. Only then will you know what path to take. After all, you were the one aware of Severus' ulterior motives. . .would you care to know the story behind that?"

Harry looked blankly at the figure, guessing,

"He's more of a Death Eater than one of the Order?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

"He made an Unbreakable Vow to Narcissa Malfoy. I was not surprised, considering she was his best friend's wife and yet something of a Death Eater as well. She worried about Draco as he was meant to take the Dark Mark, and she asked Severus to look after Draco and aid him in any way he could to secure his life. If Draco was unable to kill me, or refused to do so, Voldemort would most surely take his life, as it was his duty. In order to fulfill his vow, save Draco's life, maintain his charade as a Death Eater, Severus had to kill me, using no less than an Unforgivable curse."

Harry stared incredulously.

"Sir, you actually think Snape is part of the Order?"

"Working undercover now, obviously."

It was Harry's turn to shake his head.

"You still trust him?"

"Harry, of the two of us, I have the ability to see things most living people cannot (much to Sybil Trelawney's chagrin), for as you can see," he gestured down his front, "I've joined another world. This is a world where the impossible is suddenly quite probable. Harry, I know you are young and rash; you want to trust your instincts, and I want you to, but if you are to trust me. . . I will need you to trust my abilities and consider my suggestions. Though I am not physically there, I can guide you, aid you. You don't need me to be physically there, and that is partly why I was so willing to die. I died so you would have the chance to follow the destiny you have created. You realized through my death that Quidditch, schooling, marks, popularity, and even. . .even a first love cannot come between you and your duty. Not now, at least. Harry, that was all I wanted."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"So you will trust me?"

Harry nodded again.

"Good. We'll meet again, when the time comes. Godspeed and good luck. . .my boy."

As suddenly as Dumbledore arrived, he left in perfect grace. Harry found himself without the single candle, in the dark room alone. He pondered the great wizard's last words. . ."my _boy_". . .had he claimed him as a son, a grandson. . .his most prized disciple?

He opened his eyes, knowing he had dreamt, prophesized, invented, imagined. . .or perhaps, connected. He raised himself off the floor gingerly, touch his aching cheek whichhadcontact with the hard, brick floors for so long. He found himself shocked to see Kreacher still waiting in his usual surly mood.

"You're still here! Damn. . .off to the Hogwarts kitchens with you! And you are sworn to secrecy with all you say to me unless I say otherwise."

The moody house-elf nodded jerkily and Disapparated.

Harry walked into the living room, which shone with moonlight upon the glass of a coffee table. Hedwig, snowy talons quivering, perched patiently with a large envelope in her beak. Harry strode over, taking the envelope, giving her a few strokes and the time to hunt. He opened the package, finding an invitation to Bill and Fleur's wedding. Harry smiled in spite of himself: one more day of enjoyment never hurt anyone, not even the Boy who Lived.

A/N: Again, please review. I may not update for a while, but I will still work on the story, don't worry, my one reviewer.


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